Cracks
by Hayley-Saxon-xx
Summary: Brendan's POV  Brendan tries to deal with Danny's death and his love for Ste. Brendan puts on a brilliant facade but what if cracks are begining to show and he's finding it harder to hide who he really is. Will Brendan get found out before he's ready?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Cracks **

**Rating: T (possibly M later on?)**

**Warnings: Murder, Swearing, Slash, mentions of abuse.**

**Characters: Brendan Brady, Ste Hay, Cheryl Brady, Warren Fox, DC Ethan Scott, Noah (even though we don't know him yet)**

**A/N: My first ever Hollyoaks fic! Please don't be too harsh. It's written in Brendan's POV because I adore him! =) feedback/reviews, please? The rest of it is set right after Brendan and Warren dump the body and will continue onwards past everything that we've seen onscreen! =] Contains missing scenes too! hope you like. **

I stand here, the rain lashing my face and hands. I should not be here. I know that. I am dressed in my formal clothes, all black and white. Everything about funerals is dreary. I hold a large black umbrella above myself and the person beside me. I look round through

the heavy rain, trying to see despite it blurring my vision.

Steven is beside me, huddled underneath my umbrella. He's so close yet he looks as if he's trying to stay miles away from me. His grey-green-blue eyes are not on the coffin being lowered into the ground but on me, glaring at me, cutting through me. I catch his eyes for a moment and he sees the fear in mine. It somewhat softens his.

On the other side of me, under her own umbrella, is Cheryl. Curls of blonde hair folded into a bun, looking mournfully at the coffin. I know, of course, that she's glad to get rid of the man inside the coffin but still she tries to show sorrowfulness, out of respect, I think. What would she say if she knew the truth?

Family and friends are among the rest of the crowd. Surprisingly, I spot Jacqui McQueen stood among the mass. She's dressed in proper funeral attire, yet I see nothing in her eyes. She does not care that he is dead. She hated him. By her side, hand in hand with her is her fiancée, Rhys Ashworth, his expression a mirror image of Jacqui's. Neither of them care.

Then, on the other side of the grave where the coffin is being lowered, parallel to me, is Warren Fox, staring at me. He's in that big coat he always wears and he's not here for the funeral. He's here to stare at me. To remind me what has happened. What I've done.

This is the funeral of Danny Houston. My fault.

Then a voice, familiar, professional. The voice of DC Ethan Scott. He strides over, followed by two police officers.

"Mr Fox?" He speaks, interrupting the service. "You're under arrest for the murder of Danny Houston…"

Warren glares at me. Uh oh.

I suppose I should start at the beginning, as that is the normal way that someone starts a tale, is it not?

My name is Brendan Brady. The village where everyone spoken of above lives is Hollyoaks. It's small but seemingly buzzing with life and activity. I have only been a few months and my arrive was shortly after the death of a man, shot at his own wedding and the death of another man, a villain, who died during a blazing fire at his own club.

During my time here, there has been two murders, one of which committed by myself. A dead man has returned, seemingly unharmed. Two other deaths have happened, due to a vicious fire in a nearby restaurant, one a heroic death, the other a long drawn out death in a hospital bed. Our village, no matter what the time or date, is always buzzing. Each week, it feels, there is an event worthy of being nationwide.

Of course, anything worth speaking of above will be mentioned during my tale that I am about to tell you.

I arrived in August. Why Hollyoaks, you ask? Well this is the home of my half sister, Cheryl Brady. Here, I am a joint nightclub owner. I own half of the club Chez-Chez and half of the SU bar. The other owner _was_ Danny Houston. I say was with such emphasis because he is dead now. He is one of the two murders. He is the murder I committed. The current owner is Warren Fox. The man who died in the fire at his club, The Loft, now named Chez-Chez. He is also the man who returned from death, seemingly unharmed.

Now, I shall return to the topic of Danny Houston. He is an old, good friend of mine. Or at least he was. There was a poker game. A stupid, pathetic game of poker. Two employees of mine, Rhys Ashworth and Jacqui McQueen, got into a bit of trouble with Danny. Well, they had a long time before but this time, they made it worse with a plan and a deal. It almost worked. But Danny got them. So, I betrayed my 'old friend' and I helped them.

Danny hated me for it. He wanted me to finish Warren off, and he'd forget I ever did it. Me and Warren made an alliance. I lied to Danny, telling him Warren was dead. He wasn't. Warren was supposed to kill Danny. But he didn't.

Danny, then, threatened to go and kill Steven. I flipped. Did him with a hammer. For fucks sake, I have to explain who Steven is now, don't I? Steven is my… we… It is difficult for me to think that I have become the one thing me and my father despised the most. But Steven and I, let me say, are more than mere friends. Danny was aware of my sick, disgusting secret. So he threatened to kill him. Threatened to kill the only person I have, and probably will, ever love.

That is why I killed him.

Warren now owns half my club, so he helped me get rid of the body. Danny is gone. He is not to be spoken of again.

From here onwards, you need to know the real story. In depth, full.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! Thank you for all the support on Twitter everyone! =] x**

I am left alone. Stood on the peer that stretches across the still, glass like water outside the Dog, the moon reflecting in the water, like a mirror. I exhale deeply, staring into the water where I know Danny's body lies. I do the cross sign, my hands barely working, barely able to move. I am shaking. I know it. That is to be expected though. I have just killed a man. Killed him, without pausing, without mercy but with brutality and rage.

It is funny, in a way, how the man who I have killed for has not flitted through my mind all night. Not since he flooded into me when I killed Danny. But now that I am left alone with the bitter cold and my thoughts alone, he returns, nagging at me.

_Steven._

How is it possible that I can feel so much for him? When I hate who I am, hate what he is, hate what we have become? Danny would still be alive, if it wasn't for Steven. He would still be there, smirking and laughing in the cellar. Or possibly, he'd be round Steven's house now, getting rid of his body, cleaning up his mess.

Even the thought sickens me. I can see it. Danny breaking into Steven's place. Steven attempting to call the police, totally unaware of Danny's motive. Danny telling him that it is my fault. Steven dying, hating me. Thinking I put Danny up to this. Then Steven's body being dumped somewhere. Down a country lane or in a gutter. Left out in the night, with the animals and the insects. All alone.

I couldn't let that happen. It had happened to Vinnie and I refused to let it happen to Steven.

Oh, god. What am I going to say to Steven? Should I tell him? Tell him that I am a murderer? Risk losing him? I highly doubt that he will be pleased, even if I tell him that it was for him. I shall deal with that when it happens. Perhaps I should deal with the now.

My whole body internally shaking, I walk back, my legs barely carrying my weight. I have been told to burn everything I am wearing. Must I deal with that now? No, I'll do it tomorrow. Danny's blood is spattered on my shirt but I have zipped my leather jacket up to my neck. It shouldn't be noticed.

I make my way into the house, locking the door behind me. I lean against the cool wood, resting my forehead upon it, my breathing audibly shaking. The living room is soaked in blackness, the dark looking almost solid. I switch the lamp on and the room is bathed in a soft yellowy glow. I pour myself a glass of Irish whisky, the same whisky Steven and I drank the night he kissed me.

I slump on the sofa, shakily drinking whisky, thoughts whirling in my head. Before I can make any sense of anything, Cheryl comes plodding downstairs, in her pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers. She's wearing no make up and her hair is messy.

Rubbing her eyes, she speaks croakily: "Bren? You're home late."

"Sorry if I woke you, Chez," I apologise, scared that she'll catch me out. "I was stocktaking."

It's a lie, of course. A lie I have used many occasions when I have been in a 'lock-in' with Steven. This time it was a well needed lie. A lie that benefits no one. She smiles wearily.

"When are you going to bed? This light is a wee bit of a distraction," Cheryl asks. I down the rest of my whisky, deciding that I am no longer going to stay downstairs. I need to get out of these clothes anyway.

"I'll follow you up," I tell her, putting my glass down on the table and switching the lamp off, slinking behind her upstairs.

I sit on the bed, dressed in nothing but my boxers. My legs dangle over the edge of the bed. I cannot sleep. I've been trying desperately to sleep for just short of three hours. God, I'm terrified. I imagine my eyes are wide, pupils dilated, full of terror. The half light of my bedroom is somewhat comforting but still, I can't think straight. My mind is whirring, full of Danny and Warren and of course, Steven…

_I walk up to Steven, in the cellar. He looks terrified. He backs away from me, unsure of what I will do. I take the crate out of his hands, he looks at me, confused. He's studying me with those gorgeous, youthful, challenging eyes of his. I lean forward, kissing him briefly and softly, then pull away, studying his face. He seems confused, scared but somewhat pleased. I repeat this action, but I do not move away as far as before. I smile, showing my teeth, showing Steven that I will not harm him. Not yet anyway. He studies me, looking deep into my eyes before we are kissing again. This time passionately, Steven returning the kiss. I run my hands through his hair, his placed at the back of my neck. He tastes so good…_

Suddenly, I see Danny. Why do I see Danny?

_He walks up to me, where I am stood beside the door. His hands are in his pockets, he looks somewhat smug. He tells me that to hurt someone, you go after the ones they love most. Cheryl, he must mean Cheryl. I ask him. He denies it. Too suspicious, considering she is with Warren. He informs me he means Steven… no. He won't- he cannot - touch Steven! I will not allow it! _

Then Steven returns, flooding into me, my senses screaming with fear but roaring with pleasure from thoughts of the man who I have stupidly allowed myself to love.

_Steven is looking down on me, smiling. His eyes are shining. There always seems to be a hint of challenge in his smile, in his eyes. I ask him if he's leaving. He tells me that he is cold. I smile. Good, he is not leaving. I tell him to come back to bed. He bounces, the bed rocking under his force. I laugh. He's like a child. So energetic and playful. I think, a part of me needs that, to keep me grounded. He tries to talk but I silence him with a kiss. We lie there, in the half light of my bedroom, basking in one another's company. Neither of us speaking. _

Then my thoughts are only short.

_Steven underneath me, face full of lust and passion._

_Danny covered in blood, me striking with the hammer._

_Steven underneath me._

_Danny covered in blood._

_Steven underneath._

_Danny covered._

_Steven._

_Danny._

_Steven._

_Danny._

_Stev…Dann…Ste…Dan…St…Da…S…D… I give up._

My thoughts are moving so fast, I cannot distinguish one from the other. I can see Steven and Danny, the sound of Steven grunting colliding with the sound of the hammer cracking Danny's skull.

'_I might pay your little friend a visit.'_

'_Brendan, I want us to have a proper relationship…' _

'_He's dead.'_

'_You can't even say the word, can you? How are you ever gonna cope with us being a proper couple?'_

'_Does he know your little secret?'_

'_I'm not gonna be someone to be ashamed of anymore!' _

I didn't sleep that night. Not even for a moment. Warren was right; I didn't have it in me to be a killer, but here I am. The murderer of Danny Houston. God, when Danny told me that he had killed Vinnie all those years ago, I felt sick. I couldn't comprehend how he could kill someone. How anyone could take away another mans life. I guess its different when you're faced with the situation. What choice did I have? Let Steven die? Then his blood would be on my hands. I don't think I could've lived with his death on my conscience. At least this way I have the comfort that I have saved _someone's_ life.

When the clock ticks over to 9am and I hear Cheryl's alarm ring in the next room, I barely move. I'm still in the same position as the previous night. After about 15 minutes, I move. I get dressed and walk downstairs, taking my bloody clothes from last night with me in a bag. I don't even say morning, never mind have breakfast.

I stop by the club, only to pick up the 'murder weapon'. I hear canals are good places to keep hammers. I head there first, watching the blood stained weapon sink through the water. Every strike of that hammer, was for Steven. And yet, I fear telling him, for I may lose him forever. Steven may put up with my drug dealings and muggings but does he really have it in him to be with a murderer?

Then I find somewhere desolate, deserted, far from where anyone could pry. I pile the clothes on the ground, striking a match and watching the flames roar in front of me, the red-yellow-orange glow shining in my eyes. I look at the grey smoke, drifting towards the heavens, clouding in the pale blue sky. And still, through all this, Steven didn't leave my mind once.


	3. Chapter 3

**Only a short chapter, but it seemed to work like this! (: thank you to the support on my twitter again, everyone! :D Short chapter but the next one is extra long because of HO dialog! (: x**

**HS-xx [JP]**

The SU bar, is relatively quiet. Quiet enough for me to be able to do nothing more then lean on the bar, drink and watch. There are clutters of students in the corners, barely drinking anything, mainly chatting and gossiping. I hate students.

Steven is wiping the tables clean, totally unaware of the lengths I went to in order to save his life last night. He leans over a table to wipe it and I revel in the way his arse sticks out, just like that. I pour myself another glass of Jameson's whisky, watching him again. He comes near the bar to put a few empty glasses down and I choose this moment to try and tell him.

"Steven," I address him softly, trying not to let my voice quiver like my nerves.

He looks up at me brightly, smiling. He wanders over, eager to speak to me. He wouldn't be if he knew who - what - I was.

"Yeah?"

"Can I have a word?" I ask. I'm not used to 'asking' to talk to someone. It's normally an instruction. My nerves seem to have subdued my powerful, domineering nature somewhat.

Steven looks puzzled. He's noticed my use of questioning too. He nods, listening. I glance over at Cheryl, chatting cheerily with a customer. I shake my head, lowering my tone.

"In private," I request, moving round the bar, then I add, almost nervous he'll say no: "Please."

Steven nods. He thinks I'm after a bit of action, and while that would be great and would definitely take my mind off things, that is not my motive.

"Where d'you wanna go?" He asks me, thrusting his hands in his pockets, shrugging. I pause. Chez-Chez is shut, I guess it would be pretty quiet. I might be able to show him the blood, the terror and tell him how I felt better there.

"Chez-Chez. It'll be nice and quiet," I grin, chewing my gum harder to emphasise my words.

We swiftly leave together.

I pour myself another glass of Jameson's, watching Steven stand awkwardly in the half light of the club. I stride over to him, standing close enough to smell him. He gives me a puzzled look, probably because I haven't made even the tiniest move on him yet. I wet my lips with the whisky, putting it down on a nearby shelf.

I do not know what to do. I keep thinking of that image of Steven, dead, being dragged to some remote place by Danny. Being left there, to rot. Thank god he's okay. Overwhelmed by some thankful, yet fearful feeling, I close the gap between Steven and I, wrapping my arms round his waist and burying my face in the crook of his neck, drinking in his smell. I feel him tense then he relaxes into my embrace, wrapping his arms round me. I think he's pleased to have me so passive, so vulnerable.

"Brendan, what's happened?" He asks, his voice vibrating against my cheek. Why must he break the moment? Although, it is to be expected that he is confused. I pull away, moving only my head, keeping my arms round his waist. I gaze into his eyes, staring right into him.

"Steven…" I begin. Oh, Jesus, what am I doing? "I've done a bad thing."

Steven laughs, shrugging. "As per usual, innit really?" His face falls when he sees my expression. I shake my head, willing Steven to understand.

"Your okay now," I say randomly, remembering how much danger he was in. "He was going to…" I exhale deeply, trying not to think of horrid things. "You're okay now. You're safe. I made you safe."

"Brendan, what are you on about?" Steven looks confused, lost. I don't blame him, I'm speaking in riddles. He needs to know the truth. I need to show him…

No.

I chicken out. Smile and shake my head.

"Nothing… I just… Doesn't matter anymore. You don't need to worry," I lean forward and my lips brush with his briefly. Everything feels wrong, different, new. Because I have, in actions only, admitted my feelings for him. I have murdered for him. That is how much he means.

I step away, smiling, then I leave. Leave him there, in the half darkness, confused. Probably wondering if I could get anymore complex. Oh, Steven, you have no idea…


	4. Chapter 4

**A lovely long chapter here for the delay! I had to watch the break up scene line by line for this… Gosh, I cried! Like, mascara explosion on my face! XD Oh, a lot of swearing in this chapter. It contains a lot of angry/confused/upset Brendan, resulting in a lot of swearing. Oh and there's a lot of abuse at God here. And I don't mean it, cause I'm a Christian but Brendan is lost and confused, as we know so he's taking it out on God a lot here. **

**Also, its got a bit of added scenes to it to. And it's a f**king long chapter. You don't have to read it, its not VITAL the only thing I would ask, is that you read the break up and the following scenes, because after the 'I'm bleeding' line from Rae, I've added more =D **

Days, weeks, pass. I barely speak to Steven. Our relationship seems to have cooled. I do not know why, nor who's fault it is but we are no way near as close as before. That, however, does not mean my feelings have cooled. No, I still love him. I would still kill for him.

I find out he is making deals with Foxy behind my back, damn it. He betrayed me. Why? Has he done it to spite me? To get back at me because I won't show my affection? Whatever the reason is, I am far from pleased.

I see him reject a call and I know, somehow, that the call is from Warren. I stroll over to him. Time to talk, Steven…

"That what you do when I call you, is it?" I ask. He looks guilty, threatened. He doesn't need to feel like that around me. "Or are you trying to avoid somebody else?"

He tells me it is none of my business, he's spiteful and angry. Why is he being so cold towards me? Only 3 weeks back, he told me he wanted a proper relationship… wanted to share things… now he is hiding things from me. I laugh, in the way only I can. No, Steven won't keep things from me. I won't let him.

I tell him that I shall judge that and I pluck the phone from his hands. Steven seems to make no attempt to stop me. He lets me take the phone and glance at the screen. Oh, what a surprise… _1 missed call: Warren._

"Oh, look! It's Warren!" I cock my head to the side and Steven avoids my gaze. "Didn't know you two were mates."

I pause, almost growling at the memory of them down the ally. Warren Fox, getting involved with Steven. MY Steven… I tell him I had seen them down the alley together and his face falls. He tries to snatch the phone off me, angry. "Ooh." I move the phone from his reach, then look him dead in the eye. He looks up at me for the first time and we make eye contact. He looks terrified but somehow seeks comfort in my gaze.

"Stay away from him," I tell him bluntly. I slap the phone into his chest. "He's trouble."

Steven smirks, disbelieving, then seems to get spiteful again. What is his problem? "That's a bit rich, innit, coming from you?"

"You're angry at me," I nod, trying to level with him, placing a hand on his chest. "I get that. Don't use that as an excuse to do something stupid. Okay?"

He gets angry, slaps my hand away. I see rage in his eyes. "Says the guy who broke my ribs!"

No. He did not just bring that up.

I have felt nothing but guilt for doing that! He cannot throw that back in my face. I lose my temper, tip a table over, grab him and slam him into the bar. He looks terrified, expecting me to hit him again. He should know I'd never do that!

"You have no idea what I've done for you! So you continue to think I don't give a damn about you, if it makes you happy…" I hiss, trying to get him to understand, dammit. Steven looks confused and scared. But the moment is broken and I can say no more, because Warren walks in, swaggering as always, with that horrid coat of his.

"Who's responsible for this mess?" He ask, indicating the table that I tipped, the smashed glass all over the floor. I step away from Steven, still shaking. I turn to Warren.

"Err, Steven here," I look back at Steven and give him my best 'go along with it' look. He avoids my gaze. "Tut-tut. He's gonna… clean the…" I can't help but laugh shakily at how we almost got caught, at the menacing look in Steven's eyes. I am far from confident with this lie.

I turn and walk away, brushing past Warren and leaving. As I am going, I turn to look at Warren, just as he looks at me. God, I hate him. If he touches Steven I'll…

I do not want to leave Warren alone with Steven, out of fear, I think, but I can hardly stay and catch up with them, can I?

I get outside and linger there for a moment, wondering what the hell I would've said if Foxy hadn't strolled in. Would I have admitted everything to Steven? The murder too?

I hope that Steven doesn't tell Warren what was really going on… and I hope that Warren doesn't work it out. I don't want another Danny. I swiftly return home, trying not to think about Warren Fucking Fox. I have enough worries.

He comes to my house that night, with the envelope that Warren had given him. He has seen sense and come to me. I ask him what he's doing for Warren and he tells me that Warren wants him to deliver this package. I had forgotten about that. Things seem to slip my mind when Steven's there looking gorgeous… Ahem.

"I've gotta take it to some guy, in the middle of nowhere," Steven says, sounding slightly like a teenage gossip in the corners of the corridors in high schools.

No, that won't do. He's not going near Warren's familiars, no way. I had killed Danny to keep Steven safe… he's not putting himself in danger again. This is a job for me. I offer to do it but he seems confused at my helpfulness.

"I'm very interested to know what Warren Fox is up to," I explain, leaving out the 'and I don't want you to get hurt'. I walk towards him, looking at the envelope. "This way… I've got a chance of finding out."

Steven seems disappointed, like he wanted me to tell him I didn't want him in danger. I could've told him that, hell, I thought it but now isn't the time. He chooses to reply to that, even though I haven't said it aloud. He protests telling me he doesn't need mollycoddling, seemingly annoyed. I get frustrated and snatch the envelope out of his hands.

Actually, he does need protection. If I wasn't 'looking after him' Danny would've killed him by now. I'm dangerous. And even though I'm the one putting him in danger, I'm also the one protecting him. We look at each other and this tiny moment where he leans towards me, expecting a kiss. I almost give in. But right now, Warren Fox is the only thing that I need to sort out and Steven would only distract me and slow me down… I leave him out in the bitter cold of the outdoors again, knowing it won't be long before he comes back.

I go and visit the stranger later that night, to deliver the money. I tell him I'm Warren Fox and I text Steven, telling him the man's name and details about him because if I know Warren Fox, he'll be round there questioning Steven. The man is called Kyle and he tells me that Theresa McQueen killed Calvin Valentine, he is the man who was shot at his own wedding. I don't believe it. No, Theresa is covering. Warren killed him. Theresa doesn't have it in her to kill a man.

Steven comes over the next day, seeming all worried and agitated. Like he didn't expect me to answer the door or for me to be battered and bruised. He says he's here to find out if everything went smoothly with Kyle. I tell him that Cheryl is out so he can come inside and I'll tell him everything. Of course, talking is the last thing on my mind. He comes in, and in the light of the living room, he looks gorgeous. As per usual, though. I stroke his cheek, smile. He shakes his head, making a comment about how it was always when I want. I challenge him to walk away. I know he won't. And he doesn't. He wants me, of course he does. Then we're kissing, its passionate and electric and I had forgotten how good he tastes. How alive he makes me feel, how I get that rush and stomach turning excitement when I feel his lips against mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hands in my hair.

Then I drag him upstairs. I haven't slept with him since before that date of ours. Everything had changed since then.

The next day, Amy comes knocking on my door, looking stern. I didn't even know she was back, but here she was, on my doorstep. I let her in and she tells me how she likes her tea, before I even offer to make her one. Smart little bitch.

We get talking. Not small talk or petty comments because she is not here for that. She's here for business. Steven. She wants to talk about Steven. Its obvious. She asks if I'm still sleeping with him. It's none of her business and I'm not prepared to answer. I tell her that it has nothing to do with her. She replies with two blunt words and somehow they make my heart sink and my life crash around me.

"Rae's pregnant."

Then, I know. It's over. Me and Steven. We're over. Done, finished, _forever. _Because when a lady is having your child, playing away is not an option. I learnt that the hard way, from the stories my Ma told me about her and my Dad. She asks me when I was last with him. I reply with a cold front, like always. Saying about how he works for me. Pretending I don't know what she's talking about. It's too hard to keep the front up when I am still reeling over the 'pregnant' information. I tell her the truth. She sighs. I tell her that it's not how it sounds. Why am I trying to make her understand? Why do I care what she thinks? Why do I care that Rae is pregnant? _Why can't I fucking think straight? _

She tells me to end it. She doesn't care about me. I promise her I will. Then I tell her that she can't comprehend how much I want to end it. I leave out the _but I can't because I love him too much._ She doesn't need to hear that. And I don't need or want to say it.

She seems to have heard my thoughts because her next question hits me.

"Do you love him?"

_Yes. _I want to say yes. I really do. But my brain betrays my heart. I lie. Tell her I don't know what the word means. She sighs and I detect that a huge part of her doesn't believe me. I wouldn't believe me either, if I had an expression as crushed as mine…

Her expression turns sour. She brings up the domestic abuse. The beatings I gave him. Questions if it is still present. It hurts that she questions me but she isn't to know how much I have changed. How much he's helped me. I want to turn and shout that I would never, ever lay a finger on him. Not again. Not _ever_ again.

But that would be too vulnerable of me. I reply with a simple no. I tell her that I'm bad news, that everything she knows I've done is nothing compared to everything else. I mean Danny. Of course I mean Danny. It was weeks ago and still it hurts to remember it. To think of it. I shouldn't have done it… why did I do it?

I tell her that Steven is better off without me. Of course he is. He's safer and he can be happy and won't have to worry about other people. I make him cower and hide and think he is shameful because he's gay. I have wrecked his life, like I always do. Normally, I let go and they go back to their lives. But I am wrecking my own life too now, because I can't let go of him.

She tells me she doesn't believe me. It doesn't matter what she believes. I'm telling her the truth and if she wants to ignore that and pretend I am nothing but a thug then fine, but never again am I going to be honest with her like this. So she might as well listen.

I reassure her again that I will end it, today. She reminds of the fact that Rae is pregnant and I tell her I get it. I give her my word and try and not show how much I'm hurting inside. She goes to leave, but before she does, she turns to me. Asking if I really do hate myself. I don't reply, I just laugh. I want to shout _yes _and tell her how disgusted I am with myself. How I despise everything I am and how I wish the earth would suck me up. I don't. I let her walk away and leave.

When I hear the door slam, I let the tears I had been holding back fall and I curse Steven aloud for getting me into this mess.

Steven comes over to me later, and asks if we can talk. I want to say no, to tell him that if we talk, everything will fall. I agree and he asks if we can do it in private. It's going to be the 'Rae's having a baby' talk, I know it. I tell him that I need 5 minutes and then I will come and see him.

I meet him in the back, at the stairway. He's stood beside the wall, next to the window. He looks nervous and agitated. I lean opposite him, waiting for him to tell me the news.

"Rae's pregnant," Steven confirms it for me. It hurts far less then it ought to, due to Amy telling me before.

"Is she now?" I reply, making sure I don't sound bothered or surprised. I do it well because inside, I'm being cut to pieces. I hope that he will make it easier and end it for me, so I don't have to. He normally ends it. I've never put a stop to our relationship, not in words. But he has, many a time.

"I don't know what to do," He admits, wringing his hands. I tell him the truth, what he needs to do.

"You need to stand by her," He looks shocked and hurt. No, Steven, please don't do this. "It's the only choice left."

"Yeah, but… Me and you…" He begins, trying not to smile at the memories.

"We're history," I interrupt, putting him straight. Steven, please, understand. Don't make it any harder than it already is!

"No, last night…" He tries again to make a point but I stop him again. If I listen to him, I'll crumble. I know it.

"Was last night…" I slow my answer, hoping he'll get the message into his thick skull and walk away. He doesn't. I'm going to have to get harsh. Put on my façade and lie through my fucking teeth. I'll have to bear with Steven's hurt and my own to _make him understand. _Because we cannot carry on.

"I was using you, Steven. Like I always do." Part of it is true. I use everyone. I fuck 'um, lead 'um on, make 'um fall for me then I leave 'um out in the cold, waiting for me. Then I get bored, bugger off somewhere and get endless phone calls and letters and sometimes they come after me, like Macca did. Declare their love and beg for mine. But I use them. I don't give a flying fuck if they can't live without me. I can live without them. And I'd fucking rather.

At the beginning, that was how I was with Steven. It was what I was used to. It was who I was. I'd shag him and leave him. As always. But, fuck, that boy just kept fighting. But he wasn't desperate, like the others. And I was drawn to him. He played me just as well as I played him. He flirted and lead me on, then refused my advances. He was always, and still is, a little bit out of reach. There was always, is always, a part of him he keeps away from me. Won't let me have. Because he wants some control. And that's what kept me in the balance. It's what made me go after him more and more. It was, eventually, the thing that made me fall in love with him. Because I got to know him for him. As a person. Not a toy. And I fell for him.

My lies fail, because it's a lie to big. Even for me.

"That's not true," He smiles and tries to hold me, tries to snake his arms round the back of my neck. I grab him, slam him into the opposite wall. _No_. I won't let him hold me or touch me because I won't be able to hurt him. Won't be able to break his heart. I threaten him, threaten the use of violence. Because, like always, it's the only way I know how to control. it's the only form of control I have and I'll damn well use it. Making people scared is the easiest way to get people to stop.

"Get yer hands off me, unless you want another smack," I hiss, rage in my eyes. Angry not at him, but at the whole fucking world. Angry at a God, I've doubted exists since my Dad ran away. Angry because, yet again, its me that suffers. Me that has the hard jobs and the hard fucking life because I'm _Brendan Brady. _The bad guy, the tough guy. The guy who screws people over and doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself. Everyone seems to forget that I am human. That I can fucking feel just as much as they can. Even if I don't show it.

"Why are you being like this?" He shakes his head, scared. I don't blame him. A few months ago, this would've been the norm but now… Now it was totally out of character and it was scaring the shit out of Steven.

"You're about to be a dad," I hiss, acting disgusted at his cowardice. "Step up. For once in yer life!"

He's too determined. And he says something. Something which I had prayed and prayed to the bastard of all bastards for him not to say. It crushes me and eats me and rips me up inside. Three simple words shouldn't be able to do that. Especially not to Brendan fucking Brady. The tough guy of all touch guys. The front man, the bastard, the heartless drug dealing player. But it fucking does.

"I love _you_," He emphasises the last word. He doesn't love Rae. He loves me. And fucking fuck I want to say it back. I want to take him in my arms and tell him a thousand times that I do to. I try and hold my façade and my heart together.

"Shut up… please… just…" Before I can finish, he leans forward, kisses me. I kiss him back for a moment, then pull away, pushing my forehead against his. His kiss almost kills me.

"No…no…" I can feel the tears stinging my eyes, blurring my vision of Steven. I go to caress Steven's check, but hesitate. I'm lost in my emotion and heart, battling with my brain. I let my heart win, and take hold of his cheek. Then I go to kiss him, hesistate again, before deciding that there's only one way to say goodbye and make it stick. Goodbyes said with anger are doubted, ones with frustration are regretted and ones with violence are rebelled against. But goodbyes with pain and sorrow, on both sides, are believed, are stuck and are obeyed. Because no one wants to get their heart broken again.

I take his lips in mine and we share a kiss like none before. It is, in both our eyes, our last kiss. It's so full of desperation, because we're desperate for one another, but know it will end. Full of love, because it's the only way I can show him and it's the only chance we'll ever have again to express it. Full of sorrow, because someday, we'll forget what it's like to be with each other. Full of regret, because neither of us want it to end and both of us wish, briefly, that we hadn't got together in the first place.

Its slow, and soft, yet passionate and the most deep kiss we'll ever share. People always say; your last moments are your best. And in this case it's true. But the kiss isn't fucking enough. We want to be close and the kiss doesn't allow us to be close enough. Even sex wouldn't grant us the intimacy we're craving. Nothing can. It's weird how we crave something that isn't physically possible. Only me echoing those three words can make it possible. But I won't. I pull away, sniff back tears and half smile at him. He's looking at me, tears glazing in his eyes.

"That was goodbye…" I tell him weakly. He shakes his head, pleading me.

"No…"

"Get out of my face," I order him, knowing that if I allow him to stay, allow my barriers to fall again then I will take it all back. Take his lips in mine. Take him out into the SU bar and tell everyone. Take him home and take his body. Then, tell him I love him and take his soul, take that little part of me that he's kept from me all this time. I won't allow that. And I won't allow him to stay.

"No!" He's more forceful this time, shaking his head again. I raise my voice and so does he, passion and sorrow and longing twisting to rage and hate. Now I get all those poxy little break ups on soaps and films. I get the arguments and tears and trashing pictures and memories. Because that's all I want to do. I want to scream at him, scream bile and hatred at him. To sob and sob, throwing objects at the wall and destroying photos and documents from work with Steven's name on it. Because the world isn't fucking fair.

"Go, now!" I shove him, hard and he moves, trudging down the steps, as if he's lost all sense of the world. All use of his body. He gets to the other side of the wall and I know he's still there. I can sense him. He's waiting for me to go after him, to call his name and tell him everything about how I feel. How I was just confused but now I know.

That's not me. That's the difference between us and those tv and film break ups. I wouldn't run after him in the middle of the night, when its pouring with rain. I wouldn't call him as I'm about to board my plane. I wouldn't chase him to the train station or the airport and stop him from boarding. I wouldn't do that. And I won't do it now.

I hear the door slam and then Steven is gone, in both scenes. I hope he's not sobbing and causing a scene, or Cheryl will suspect something. Especially if she knows I was with Steven a moment ago. I also hope he hasn't lost scene and he doesn't blurt everything out to Cheryl. I really fucking hope.

I lean against the wall and tilt my head back, my eyes welling up again. There's no going back now. It's seriously over. I wait about 15 minutes and once I've composed myself enough, I head back into the bar, lingering at the door, just like Steven did.

Then I'm back behind the bar, serving drinks, lost in my thoughts. I can't stop fucking thinking about what he said to me…

_I love _you_…_

Cheryl comes up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder.

"You alright, Bren?" She asks, snapping me from my sorrow. "You seem a wee bit out of it. Something on your mind? I saw Ste in a right state before. You two had a fall out?"

"What?" I breathe heavily, trying so hard not to lose it and crack. "No, we… fine… nothing… I… nothing happened. I'm nothing. I mean, nothings fine…" I can't speak properly. I make no fucking sense. "I'm fine!"

"Are you sure, Bren?" Cheryl asks, concerned. "You can take the afternoon off if you need a wee lie down to get your thoughts into gear?"

"Yeah, cheers, Chez," I don't need asking twice. I go to leave immediately. Before I go, Mitzeee, the one from the Dog, gives me the funniest look…

I find out the truth behind Mitzeee's 'funny look'. She had seen Steven and I together, saying goodbye. Then, she used it against me. Blackmailed me. I let her do this photo shoot in the SU bar but an incident with a perverted photographer gave us this weird sort of trust and friendship. She promised to be my 'girlfriend' because, in her words not mine, I'm not ready to tell the world I sleep with men, as long as I be her manager. It was a fair deal. I agreed.

Tension began to rise, between me and Mitzeee. We started to realise that we didn't get along at all. Between me and Steven. We started to find it harder to work together and remain professional. But both relationships stayed the same. Mitzeee and I, with this fake romance and Steven and I deadly professional.

Then, I'm not sure what happened but in a week, everything seemed to change. Cheryl told me that Rae was going to have an abortion and was at the abortion clinic now. She had not told Steven anything. I didn't want to see Steven hurt and I certainly wasn't going to let a baby die. Not after Niamh.

I find Steven, tell him. And together we run to the clinic and stop her, just before her appointment.

The next day, Steven informs me that Rae is still unsure about the baby. Annoyed at her selfishness, I go over and see her. Opening up is my only way of making her see. So I tell her about my child, my daughter, who died. Niamh. She seemed to see sense and later told Steven she was keeping the child. At least someone gets to be happy in all of this.

Then, everything falls apart for Steven. And its my fault for not sticking to our goodbye. We end up having sex in the office, during Mitzeee's lingerie show and as we're in the middle of a kiss, Rae and Mitzeee walk in…

She ends it with him, understandably. Steven is crushed. She, then, tells him he's to have nothing to do with the baby. For fucks sake, that's way over the line. I can understand that she's upset and broken and I get that she doesn't want to see him or speak to him but taking a child away from its father is not right. A baby needs a mother and father, I learnt that the hard way…

Things seem to get worse for Steven, then. Me and Rae have an argument and she gets these stomach cramps, then reveals that she is bleeding. I feel mortified. If she loses this child then it is my fault, and I won't be able to deal with that. I can't have killed a child, least of Steven's child! I'm sure he won't forgive me for this…

I bundle her into a taxi and join her, ordering that we are taken to A&E. Her face is pale and stained with tears. She's clutching her stomach and staring into the air. I try and ask her if she is feeling ok, but it seems to be a bad idea.

She glares and me, her red, teary eyes full of hate and anger.

"Don't even talk to me," She sneers, growls, angrily. I nod. I feel horrid inside. Like someone has sliced my open and twisted my organs around each other.

_All you have done is wreck his life! _

And she's right. I destroyed all hope of a normal life for him and now I've killed his child. I feel hopeless. No matter what I do, how much I try and change, everything turns out the same. I ruin the people closest to me. Make them fall apart and blame me. Like a hurricane, or a vicious tornado. That's who I am. That's what Brendan Brady really is… a monster, a life wrecker, a murderer.

**There's more of the taxi scene in the next chapter which will be up soon. =) **

**Exactly 7 pages long! Hahaha that's loooong. **

**HS-xx (Jess)**


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